


Intertwined

by Mixxy



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Dream Sex, Jake does not have time for your bullshit, M/M, Red String of Fate, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, more smut will come as story builds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-16 13:21:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2271243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mixxy/pseuds/Mixxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone in Night Vale knows about the red string. The one that connects you to your soulmate. The one where, when you find the other person, destines that you will fall in love with them immediately and live in bliss.</p><p>Jake Lin thinks that's <i>bullshit</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cerise

Jake doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until he sees the women in the grey suit jacket staring at his hands.

He gives her a sharp look in return and her gaze drops back down to the résumé in her lap. Jake sighs and looks at his own. It’s impeccably selected, completely professional, packed with qualifications and skills and…

He’s doing it again.

Twisting the red thread around his fingers, creating little mazes of the string, then unwinding it again. It’s a nervous habit he’s had as long as he can remember, and he’s sure his “soulmate” is probably incredibly annoyed at the tugging, but he couldn’t care less. He’s been trying to stop it, because he knows it looks unprofessional, and worse, it looks like a weakness. Not that anyone can see it- everyone knows you can only see your own string, or the world would be so cluttered- but he knows they see his hands moving around something unseen, and _they_ know it’s the red string tied forever to his index finger. Everyone has one, but most people know enough not to play with it.

Especially not now, waiting here for an interview to what could be a very lucrative job. Everyone knows that Marcus Vanston is…eccentric, and runs through personal assistants like the station does interns. The PAs don’t die, of course, it’s more of a “disgruntled stomping down the steps”. But in addition to being eccentric, Vanston is somehow a financial genius. There’s a method to the madness, and Jake is itching to get close enough to figure out what.

The problem is, so are the other dozen applicants in the room. People who are just as qualified as Jake, and who haven’t betrayed their nervousness by fidgeting with a red string-

No. He needs to have confidence for this. Years ago he learned that in the corporate world, there were countless sharks just waiting for a trace of blood in the water. He straightens up, adjusts his jacket, and looks at his résumé with a steely eye. He is qualified. He’s put in the work. He’s…playing with the string again.

God damn it.

Without warning the hand with the red string jerks and he drops his résumé. To everyone’s eyes (which suddenly seem to be on him), it must have looked like some sort of hand spasm. But they know- soulmates can do that, tug on each other’s strings. Most people consider it a sweet gesture, a way to let their soulmate know that they’re on their mind.

Of course, Jake’s soulmate uses it to be an _asshole_.

He’s half-hoping he never meets whoever it is as he scoops up the paper, trying to regain his dignity. He straightens up just in time to see the pervious applicant leave and his heart sinks. She’s absolutely beautiful, sienna skin and long shining brown hair. She seems to be all legs and even without her heels, she’d tower over Jake. “He said to send in the next one,” she says, smiling at Jake, and there’s a keenness in her eyes, a sharpness that says there’s a blade behind her beauty. And if the rumors about Vanston’s debauchery are true, then someone as savvy as her has the job locked in already. Jake wants to leave right now. He just had such a good feeling about this job, and now it’s been snatched out from under him-

“Did you hear me?” she questions, and Jake snaps out of his thoughts to realize that everyone’s staring at him. A righteous resolve bubbles through him. He is Jake Lin, and even if he’s already lost the job, he is going to go in there and do the best damn interview that he’s ever done.

He marches in there and shuts the door. The office is surprisingly sparse- the walls are decorated with a few paintings Jake thinks he’s seen in art books before, the desk is a handsome mahogany, and the main feature is the window behind the desk, casting the man sitting there in silhouette. Jake only glances at him once before nerves threaten to take over. He’s solidly built, with dark skin and startlingly green eyes- emerald, if Jake was going to put a specific color on it. He’s got a stubble and a stud in his ear that glints suspiciously like a diamond and he’s disarmingly attractive.

It doesn’t fluster him in the slightest. He’s still filled with that fierce determination, and he holds out his hand for Marcus to shake, looking straight into his eyes. Confidence. Go-getter attitude. “Mr. Vanston,” he says cordially. “I’m Jake Lin.”

He doesn’t get a response. In fact, Marcus drops eye contact all together, opting to stare at his hand like he’s never seen such a thing before. Jake doesn’t look away. _Confidence._ After what feels like an eternity of holding his hand out and getting nothing but silence in response, he pulls back his hand, clearing his throat and setting his résumé on the desk. “Mr. Vanston, I think you’ll find I’m an ideal candidate for this job.”

Marcus still stares at…his torso? And Jake still looks at his face, a ragged determination making him stay focused. “I have multiple internships on my record, with glowing reviews from each one and examples included of my work-“

“Kid-“ Marcus says, not moving his eyes.

But Jake is on a roll now and he’ll say his piece if it kills him. “I was top of my class in college and I had multiple papers published as an undergraduate-“

“Hey, kid.” Marcus wheels his desk chair out from behind the desk.

“And I spearheaded multiple projects while on the committee board of-“

There’s another yank at the red string around his finger. This one is so unexpected and strong that his entire body lurches forward with it. He feels himself fall-

And then he’s in Marcus Vanston’s lap, hands braced on his shoulders. The other man has an arm around his waist like he’s afraid Jake will fall again. Jake is absolutely mortified. A good job interview doesn’t end with _straddling your prospective employer._

Marcus holds up a hand. There’s a red string tied around his index finger. “Hey there.”

Jake freezes. His mind locks up. He swears he can feel the world stop spinning. Because he can see Marcus’ string, and _you can only see your own string._

Numbly, he lifts his own hand and follows the thread with his eyes, all the way up to Marcus’ hand. “I- I didn’t- this-“ It seems surreal, and he can’t speak, can’t think. He’s found- this is his _soulmate_.

Marcus stands and nearly lifts Jake right along with him. His arm is heavy around Jake’s waist as he guides them both to the door. Jake walks with him, but feels as if he’s caught in a dream, his mind still glitching, trying to understand.

“Everyone!” Marcus says to the group of applicants. Instantly everyone’s eyes are on him. “You can all go home. We’re done here.”

There’s a moment of shocked silence. “You mean,” one man says incredulously, “you’ve found your PA already?”

“Nah.” Marcus pulls Jake tighter to him. “But I found my soulmate, and we’re gonna fuck like bunnies on my desk now, so…” He waves his hand airly. “Shoo.”

There’s another minute of silence as everyone stares. Oddly enough, it’s broken by Jake.

“ _Excuse me?”_

Marcus turns to Jake. Everyone turns to Jake. Jake, for his part, has found that his shock has been swiftly replaced with a bubbling, boiling anger. “I am not having sex with you on your desk.”

“Oh.” Marcus seems to be contemplating this. “Well, in that case, I’ve got a very nice bed upstairs. It can-“

“ _No_. I’m not doing that, either.”

“Oh, the old-fashioned type.” Marcus gives him a lopsided grin. “I like that. We can totally go out for dinner first. I know this great place-“

“No, Mr. Vanston, I mean that I’d cordially like to ask you to go fuck yourself.”

He’s aware of the collective gasps following him as he strides out past the room of applicants, head held high, and starts down the stairs.

“Woah, woah, woah! Hang on, James, did-“

“My name is Jake,” he says without turning around. “Jake Lin.”

“Well, Jake, slow down there.” Marcus nearly has to jog to keep up. “What was _that_ all about? Did you just tell me to go fuck myself?”

“That would be correct.”

“Can I ask _why?_ ”

“You certainly have the capacity to, but like many questions, I don’t know if you’ll get an answer.”

“…So, _why?”_

“Why did you think I wanted nothing more than to get bent over your desk?”

“We’re- we’ve got the-“ Marcus holds up the hand with the red string.

“And who could resist the utter seduction of a piece of red thread? I mean, forget porn, thread is really what gets me hot.”

Marcus’ brows knit and his mouth opens slightly as he stares at Jake. Then, surprisingly, a Cheshire grin spreads across his face. “Wow. I like you.”

By now they’ve reached Jake’s car and he’s halfway inside when he pauses. “Mr. Vanston.”

“Marcus.”

“Mr. Vanston,” he says again, just to be stubborn. “Were you honestly prepared to be soulmates with someone you didn’t even _like_?”

Marcus opens his mouth as if to respond, but no words come out. He looks genuinely taken aback by the question, and after thirty seconds of no response, Jake scoffs and closes his car door.

“Jake!” Marcus leans in his window as soon as Jake starts the engine. “Monday, 7 a.m.”

“What?”

“Be here on Monday, at 7 a.m. I’ve got a lot of stuff I need done in the mornings and my personal assistant has to get here early.”

It finally dawns on Jake, and he scowls. “You’re trying to hire me- why, so I’ll sleep with you?”

“Of course not.”

“Well, I don’t take jobs because the boss is hot for me. I earn them. So if that’s all-“

“Who said you didn’t earn this?” At first Jake thinks he’s joking, but the easygoing smile is gone. “I’m not an idiot; I read all the pre-sent résumés. You’re just as qualified as anyone else in there. Plus, you aren’t intimidated easily and you’ve got one hell of a backbone. You earned this job yourself.”

Jake searches his face for any sort of leer or jest but there’s nothing. And he wants this job. He wants it bad.

He presses his lips into a thin line and throws the car into reverse. Marcus steps away just in time as he jerks out of his parking spot and tears away.

That night, just as he’s falling asleep, he feels a faint tugging on his string. His stomach knots and he jams the hand under a pillow.

 

He’s sitting on Marcus’ desk. The window isn’t lit with the bright desert sun, but is full of city lights in the dark. It’s a breathtaking sight.

Something else breathtaking is the way Marcus puts a hand on each of his thighs and presses them apart, kneeling between his spread legs. His eyes are dark and promising and it makes Jake’s heart race. “Mr. Vanston…”

“Jake,” he responds, then presses a kiss to Jake’s inner thigh. His mouth trails up up up, a line of touches against his skin that has Jake burning. His hands slide on the mahogany as he tries to arch up, to press closer to that wicked, wicked mouth.

Instead of giving him want he’s clearly asking for, Marcus traces little designs on Jake’s thigh with the tip of his tongue. He’s so close to where Jake’s hot and aching that it’s practically torture. “Mr. Vanston, _please_.”

The tongue is replaced by a set of teeth, nipping softly at the sensitive skin. Jake can’t help the low moan that rumbles out of his throat. His head falls back and he gives himself entirely to this shuddering pleasure. “Jake.” The word is little more than a murmur. He can feel Marcus’ lips moving against his skin as he says it and he didn’t know he could want something so badly.

“Jake,” he says again, pushing his legs apart wider. There’s a flicker of tongue in the crease between his thigh and his hip and it pulls another moan from the man on the desk.

“Come on,” he pants, and he reaches down and weaves his hands through Marcus’ hair. The billionaire looks up and the sheer fondness in his eyes is astonishing. He holds eye contact with Jake for one brilliant, breathless moment, then opens his mouth and descends upon him, hot and wet and _oh-_

He jerks awake, heart pounding furiously.

For a second he just lays there, taking note of his surroundings and the pulse thudding in his ears. He’s still in his tiny apartment and he’s really fucking cold because the heat broke again. The room is dark, with a sliver of moonlight coming in through the crack in the curtains. He’s not in a mansion with Marcus Vanston, he’s here, and he is hard as a rock.

He curses as he settles back down on his bed. He could go take a cold shower, but the pipes make such a racket that he’s sure he’d wake up everyone else in the building. He could just wait for it to go away, but it’s hard to ignore the persistent throbbing in his groin.

Well, there’s always the old-fashioned way.

He reaches down and takes himself in hand, hissing at the first touch of fingertips. He’s so wound up already that he knows this won’t take long. Slowly, he begins to pump himself, thoughts wandering. He thinks about the cute barista at Starbucks, the one who gives him an extra shot of sugar-free caramel. He thinks about the scientist who just came to town, who looks flustered half the time and wears pants that look painted on. He does _not_ think about his asshole boss.

Yeah, he thinks about the scientist, about how he’s probably got a lab with all sorts of lab tables. The scientist would bend him over one, kissing along his shoulder. Jake would moan and his hands would drag across the mahogany as the scientist pressed inside him. That’s good, nails digging into the surface of the desk as Vanston whispers sweet dirty nothings into Jake’s ear-

Shit, wait, wait. _Fuck_.

He is pointedly thinking about other men as his hand moves quicker over himself. He is _not_ thinking about Vanston, or his dream. He is not thinking about it looked in his mind, Vanston on his knees, eyes sparkling with want. He’s not- mmh- he’s not thinking about the way he looked- ah- lips stretched around Jake- as he- as he-

He shakes through his orgasm as he comes spectacularly in his hand. Afterward he shakily reaches for the tissues and wipes himself off, still breathing heavily. Fuck. The clock says he’s still got four hours before he needs to be at work, so he rolls over and tries- really tries- to get back to sleep.

 

Vanston is there to greet him when he shows up to work in the morning.

“Great,” he says without looking up from his iPhone. “There’s a schedule and a few notes from my last PA on your desk in your office. Everything should be easy enough to figure out. Don’t put any calls through to me unless they’re scheduled or on the list of personal contact numbers.”

“Right,” Jake says, a little surprised at the professionalism. “I’ll get right to that.”

“And Jake?”

“Yes?”

“At any point if you feel the need to get fucked senseless, I’ll be upstairs.”

He winks lewdly at Jake, who wishes heat didn’t rise in his face as he turns and stalks up to his office.

His office that seems to be entirely filled with roses. There’s a note on his desk that says “a little welcome home. xoxoxo your soulmate xxxx”

He groans and drops his head on the desk, causing a flurry of rose petals.


	2. Cherry

Jake is a good PA, Marcus thinks. He comes in on time, even early, gets everything done, and doesn’t slack off. Everything in the house is running smoothly, and sometimes when he’s focused he even forgets Jake is there.

He still wants to pin him against the wall and make him scream his name, but that’s neither here nor there.

He feels the string tugging at his finger as he’s clearing up some files. It’s a soft, short tugging, the kind that he now knows happens when Jake is tense or nervous. He’s seen him sometimes when he’s hyper-focused, twisting the string around his fingers, making little webs, winding and unwinding it. Like a little spider. It’s endearing. But at the same time, he can see the obvious tension in Jake’s shoulders when he does it, the way his brow furrows as he works. He admires self-destructive ambition as much as the next guy, but he wishes Jake would just relax.

He glances at his daily schedule. Nothing for awhile.

[text] hey J. did u eat 2day?

There’s a pause, and then his phone jangles with the dulcet tones of Shaggy.

[txt] Yes

[text] no u didn’t

[txt] Have you been watching me?

[text] we r in the same house. hard not 2 notice

[txt] I’m fine. Ever heard of a working lunch?

[text] come have lunch w me

[txt] I’m not falling behind my second week here. I actually have a job to do.

[text] ur no use 2 me if u pass out. come have lunch w me

[txt] Let me watch you work

[text] wht?

[txt] I want to see your methods. Let me watch you work, and I’ll have lunch with you.

[text] u can sit in on a conference call. maybe.

[txt] Deal

[text] great. come 2 my office in a half hour

He puts down his phone, smiling broadly. He’s got some work to do.

* * *

 

When Jake enters his office, his eyebrows go up, though the rest of his face stays cool and collected. Marcus supposes that the candles might be a bit much, or maybe it’s the silk tablecloth draped over his desk, but he’s always appreciated a bit of the flair for the dramatic. “Come, sit,” he says, gesturing at the other chair.

“What exactly do you call this?”

Marcus adjusts the single white rose in the vase. “Wining and dining you. Speaking of wine- try this. One of the best in my stocks. They said the winemaker cried as he bottled it, like holding a newborn.”

Jake sets the glass back down on the table. “I don’t drink on the job.”

“Aw, come on. This is like liquid gold. Well, made of grapes.”

“Hm.” He crosses his arms and glances from the glass up to Marcus unwaveringly.

“Fine, _fine_. Here.” He pours Jake a glass of ice water from the jug on the desk and Jake sips at it, looking over the rest of the dishes on the table. “Now, for lunch, I know _this_ is gonna wow you, alright? We have pan-seared duck breast and a filet mignon, cooked to just-“

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“You’re _what_.”

“I’m a vegetarian. I don’t eat meat. Surely this isn’t a novel concept to you.”

Marcus looks down at the meal on the silver serving dishes, marveling at how this has gone so awry. Normally his seduction isn’t _nearly_ this hard. Across the table, Jake picks up a carrot and crunches away. “Okay. Okay. Fine. Come on.”

He gets up and walks out of his office, Jake trailing after him curiously. “Where are we going?”

“We’re gonna fix this. Okay.” They walk into the kitchen and Marcus slaps his hands on the counter. “What kinds of things do you like here? Let’s make something.”

“I could be working-“

“Ah-ah, you said you’d have lunch with me. We’re gonna have lunch.”

Jake heaves a sigh, like having lunch in a well-stocked kitchen is such a burden, and starts rummaging around in the fridge. “Here,” he says, tossing a tomato back to Marcus. He nearly drops it, fumbles it for a few seconds, then sets it down on the counter, straightening up. He looks over to see if Jake saw that, but he’s still busy. Good save. “Mr. Vanston, start cutting that up.”

“Marcus,” he corrects him, searching through the drawer for a knife.

“Mr. Vanston.”

Stubborn little spider.

He slides the pieces of cut-up tomato to Jake. “Hm. You did this well.”

“You sound surprised. What, did you think I was born into money?”

“Um, yes.”

“Sike!  I totally was. My tricycle had golden-plated wheels. But, you know, big house, kid gets kinda lonely. I used to hang out with the kitchen help a lot. They’d let me help cook if I promised to stop bothering them.”

“So you’re literally always been a pain in the ass.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

Eventually they get everything into the oven, with only minor technicalities. The baked tomatoes are exquisite, topped with fresh mozzarella and, when Marcus got creative, bell peppers. “Don’t you have a cook?” Jake asks through a mouthful of tomato and cheese.

“Yeah, but I told her she could go home after she finished our lunch stuff. Kinda thought we might be having wild, loud sex.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “You have cheese on your face.”

“Come kiss it off?”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Hey,” Marcus says, reaching for another tomato. “Can I ask you something?”

Jake regards him suspiciously, taking another sip of water. “I suppose.”

“Why are you so against this soulmates thing?”

Jake doesn’t move, but Marcus feels that same short tugging on the string and knows he’s started fidgeting with it again. “Why are you so for it?”

Marcus is a little bit at a loss at the question. He’s never really questioned it. It was just a thing that happened, everyone knew that. “You know, it’s- it’s supposed to be like finding your missing piece, right? Your soulmate completes you.”

Jake shrugs. “Why are you so eager to believe you’re incomplete? And why do you think I am?” Before Marcus can even formulate a response, Jake is wiping off his hands and setting the tray by the sink. “Lunch was nice. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

He’s gone before Marcus can say anything else. He huffs and takes another bite of tomato. This is going to be more complicated than he thought.

* * *

 

“Jaaaake”

“Jaaaaaaaaake”

“Jaaa _aaaaake!”_

Finally, there’s a muffled “ _What?”_ from downstairs.

“I need my phone. I didn’t bring it up.”

“ _Get it yourself, I’m busy.”_

“I caaaan’t. Bring it to me.”

There’s no response.

“I’m in the bathroom!”

Nothing, and then footsteps growing closer. The door swings open and Jake walks in, Marcus’ phone in one hand. “How did you forget this, aren’t you attached at the-“

He stops, looking at Marcus’ bare, glistening chest. Marcus opted not to use bubbles in the bath this time, so there is nothing to hide all of him, reclining in the tub. He had just freshly washed his hair, so drops of water roll down his chest, past his lean torso, and back into the bath.

He smugly watches as Jake’s eyes follow the drop’s path, then beyond, stopping between his legs and lingering there.

Marcus grins like the cat that ate the canary, slowly propping up one knee. “See something you like?”

Jake’s gaze snaps back up to his face. “Look, do you want your phone or not?”

He stretches, and has to hold back a laugh at how determinedly Jake is keeping his eyes on Marcus’ face, like he’ll turn to stone if he looks away. “You know, this is plenty big enough for two people. I don’t suppose you’re like to join me?”

“You suppose right.”

Marcus tsks. “What a shame. I mean, I hate to see water go to waste.”

Jake shakes his head and hands Marcus the phone, but then something strange happens. His hand lingers, fingertips lightly touching the phone. “Mr. Vanston, you’d do well to remember something.”

“Oh?” He gives Jake a slow, lazy smile.

“I’m an attractive man, Mr. Vanston. Very attractive.”

Again, Marcus is speechless, which is quite an accomplishment. Jake is gonna set a record soon enough. “Wh- I know that. Of course I know that. I’ve been _saying_ that.”

Jake lifts an eyebrow, looking Marcus dead in the eyes. “Then you’ll know that you’re not the first man who’s tried to pursue me. Or the last. Or even the only one right now.” He pulls back, straightens his lapels, and walks away. “You’ll have to try something else if you think you’re any different than them.”

Marcus turns it over in his mind, carefully thinking about what Jake said. “So,” he finally says, “you’re saying you want me to keep trying, then.”

Jake doesn’t answer and keeps going. His hand is on the doorknob when Marcus stops him again. “Hey, Jake?”

The other man stops and looks over his shoulder.

Marcus props his head on his hand. “I know you’ve been jerking off thinking about me.”

Jake’s eyes go wide and his face flushes. " _What."_

“I mean, we are connected. It’s not that hard to tell when you…” He makes a few tugging motions near his waist and Jake’s eyes snap down to where the string on his own finger is rhythmically pulling. “And I don’t think it’s a coincidence I’ve suddenly been feeling that every night since we met.”

Jake’s closes his mouth. Opens it again. Finally he just flings open the door and nearly slams it behind him. Marcus can hear quick footsteps all the way down to Jake’s office.

He chuckles and leans his head back, enjoying the warmth of the bath. It really would be nicer with Jake in here with him, though.

Maybe he’ll get him a watch. He seems like he’d appreciate a nice one. Or a high-end sex toy. Maybe both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no smut here, which I feel I need to apologize for? Just hold your horses, there's a lot of smut coming up, don't you worry.
> 
> As always, my tumblr is [here](http://floating-cats.tumblr.com) where I post sneak peeks of fics, reblog a ton of fanart, and chat with other fans.

**Author's Note:**

> In which I write a red string of fate au. I honestly don't know when I'll be updating this- hopefully not too long, but SC does take priority right now, since it's a bit higher drama. I just wanted to write something kinda sweet and rom-com after all the angst and pwp I've been writing. It's been fun, but sometimes Mix needs a breather.
> 
> Marcus/Jake. Tell your friends.
> 
> Using [Nami's](http://zenamiarts.tumblr.com) Marcus and Jake headcanons.
> 
> I have a WTNV/fic blog [here](http://floating-cats.tumblr.com), where I post sneak peeks, reblog a ton of fan art, and scream about fictional nerds with other fans.


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